


Going To Hell Fic #1

by koalathebear



Series: Going to Hell Fic [1]
Category: Prison Break, Prison Break RPF
Genre: Angst, F/M, RPF, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-29 14:17:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/320809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalathebear/pseuds/koalathebear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written after msgenevieve's confession here that she RPF'd them as well gave me courage that I was not alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I seriously know nothing about these two actors except that she's um married and I umm made her unmarried for this fic. :P Don't read this if you're anti RPF, 'kay? :)

She's quieter this season. He knows why. They don't talk about it. No one mentions the D word. The media tried to imagine lurid reasons for the failure of her marriage but Sarah never says a word to anyone. She just goes about her business, calm and professional as always. Last season, she would joke around more, now and then she'd frame him after she pranked Dom. This season, she has become more withdrawn, a little paler and thinner. The writers have seized upon it with glee. Sara Tancredi is also suffering and in pain and the realism doesn't hurt the ratings one bit.

"She's hurting pretty bad," Dom comments quietly when the two of them are running through their lines in the crappy diner near where they're shooting.

"That's to be expected," Wentworth says, not wanting to talk about it.

"You should talk to her".

"And say what?"

"Whatever," Dom says dismissively. "Stay in your ivory tower". His Australian accent is always stronger when he's pissed off and it's very broad now. He gets up and leaves, just as Sarah walks in and goes and sits in the corner with a book and orders a cup of coffee.

"Mind if I join you?" Wentworth asks, going to stand beside the table. Sarah has the book on the table in front of her, she has her head lowered but she's staring at the book unseeingly. Her thick dark hair is falling across her face and he can't help admiring the rich redness of it against her pale skin.

"I have a book," she tells him a little abruptly.

"You weren't reading it," he counters and she rolls her eyes.

"Sit down and stop being a smart ass," she tells him. He grins and sits down as she orders him a coffee, exactly the way he likes it.

"Not going to call me a coffee wuss?" he asks her as she takes a sip of her defiantly black coffee.

"People who pollute their coffee aren't worthy of my time," she tells him and they smile at one another.

"You're not going to believe what Robert said to me today," Wentworth tells her.

"Oh god, go on - let me have it," she says, curiosity piqued. He tells her, she laughs and they lean towards one another to talk. He orders the next round of coffee and manfully tries to drink a black coffee while she looks on and taunts him.

***

"I don't believe you," she tells him as he walks past and drops another paper crane into her lap. They haven't had any scenes together, but Michael has just sent Sara another paper crane in the mail with a clue.

"You're so rude," he tells her. She doesn't believe that he's been making the cranes himself and claims that they all came from the props department.

He makes her a paper crane, his strong, slender fingers smoothing swiftly across the paper and in no time at all he's handing her the origami bird.

"Do you do flower arranging, too?" she asks him.

"Jealous," he tells her as walks out of the room.

"You're so smug," she tells him.

"Jealous," he calls over his shoulder as he leaves. Sarah laughs and tucks the small crane into the pages of her novel.

***

He pretends he doesn't notice her reddened eyes as they rehearse the phone conversation.

"You screwed that up royally," he tells her when she flubs a line and she pulls a face. She bites her lip and gets up as if to leave the room. Before she can make it to the door, he has risen and has pulled her against him.

"It's ok," he tells her. "You're fine," he says holding her head against his chest and pretends he sees and hears nothing.

He tells everyone Sarah has bad allergies and they need to hold off filming until the antihistamines kick in.

At the read through, she doesn't look at him, but sits by his side rigidly. When she slides her hand into his, his hand clasps around hers reassuringly.

They read through their lines, hands linked tightly under the table.

***

He's happy when he hears her laughing again. Amaury takes her around the carpark on the back of his motorcycle and Wentworth stands and watches as Sarah shouts with laughter.

"You tryin' to deafen me woman?" Amaury complains as the motorcycle crawls across the carpark at a snail's pace.

He smiles as Sarah makes fun of Dom for the missing buttons on his shirt. When they go through the rushes, Sarah jokes that they'll have to CGI his shirt closed otherwise women all over the world will be swooning for him.

"You mean the ones not drooling over Went," Dom retorts.

Sarah slants Went a smile. "Who'd drool over him?" She demands and laughs when Went flips her the finger. "Nice," she exclaims. "You've clearly been picking up bad habits from Dom," she tells him and they all laugh.

Wentworth reaches out and tugs her ponytail lightly and they both smile.

"What are you like five years old?" she demands, but her hand reaches up to touch his lightly.

***

When they get interviewed by Kristin Veitch, he asks her,"You ok? We can say we're too busy if you want".

Sarah gives him a look like he's out of his mind.

"Hello, you're the one who comes across all stiff and buttoned up during interviews".

He laughs. "You're so full of it," he protests. They're still laughing and kidding around when Kristin walks in and the tone of the interview remains relaxed and irreverent after that. Sarah's still making fun of him during the interview, talking about Scofield's misdeeds and all the reasons why it's not really possible for Michael and Sara to be together just yet.

He stands there with an indulgent smile on his face, chiming in when necessary but just enjoying the banter. It's hard to take his eyes off her because she's vivid and full of life, the brightness of her red blouse like a bright flame. After a while, he doesn't even bother to look away and neither does she.

When the interview's done, they ditch the limo and walk back to the hotel on foot. He taunts her about Freudian slips and long, hot, dirty ..... days.

"In your dreams," she says but when he reaches out to take her hand in his, she doesn't pull away, just walks alongside of him, unspoken thoughts in her eyes as she glances up at him.

"So you're happy to work with other people. Sick of working with me, huh?" he questions her. They both know it's a lie. The scenes when they're together have a heat and an electricity that makes everything else seem dull and lifeless by comparison. The fact that they'll have scenes together again is both exciting and frightening. Frightening because things are very different from how they were last season.

He walks her to her door like a gentleman, but the way he presses her against the door and kisses her hard is anything but gentlemanly. When his hand slides beneath her blouse, she groans and pulls him closer. He stops himself before it goes somewhere they'll both regret.

He bites back a shaky laugh when he hears Sarah swearing in frustration. He pushes her hair out of her eyes, cups her face in his hands and kisses her again. Hard.

"We've got all the time in the world," he tells her.

"They could kill me off next episode and I'd be off the show," she whispers, running her fingers through his cropped hair and sliding her mouth along his jaw.

"Wouldn't change _this_ ," he tells her and this kiss is longer, hungrier and more urgent. He grabs for her keys and fumbles to unlock the door.

Sarah gasps. "I thought you said we shouldn't rush into anything we might regret"

"My only regret is waiting so long," he mutters and they fall into the hotel room in a tangle of arms, legs, lust and uncontrollable laughter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously know nothing about these two actors except that she's um married and I umm made her unmarried for this fic. :P Don't read this if you're anti RPF, 'kay? I just thought that the two of them were tooo tooo cute in their interviews together. :) Also the show never gives Michael & Sara any happiness so well .... one has to make it up where one can ;)

_life is beautiful  
but it's complicated ..._

Sarah can tell that Wentworth's getting bored with the interviews. He's always asked the same questions, as is she. If she had a dollar for each time Wentworth's asked about his tattoo, she'd be a wealthy woman.

"Have you forgiven him?"

"No, I mean it's worse now, right?" She can see Wentworth glancing over at her. "Because now there's not just blood on my hands and my career is over. I have no more family, alive". Sarah talks about Sara's frame of mind. Out of the corner of her eye she can see Wentworth pretending to listen but she knows his mind is wandering.

"There's just so much going on .... and I think ... whatever romance existed, I think has been replaced by ...." She pauses, searching for the right word.

"Lust," Wentworth murmurs unexpectedly in a low and sexily provocative voice that makes Sarah gasp with shocked laughter. The interviewer blinks while Sarah continues to choke with laughter.

"I'm sorry," Wentworth murmurs insincerely. "Something more complicated," he corrects himself scrupulously.

"Were you daydreaming?" Sarah demands, her voice shaking with laughter as Wentworth laughs unrepentantly in wicked amusement.

"Come back to me," she says, snapping her fingers as she tries to hold back the laughter and avoid looking at him. Wentworth is still laughing and eventually Sarah gives up and throws her hand up. "Oh there you go, lust," she announces.

In the break, she refuses to meet his eyes. "You behave," she tells him taking a sip of her coffee. He reaches out and takes the cup from her, putting his mouth where hers had just been and taking a deep swallow.

"What?" he asks her with an innocence that is entirely feigned. He follows her into her dressing room.

"You know what," she says accusingly.

"Gotta allow me to get some fun out of these things. Mind-numbing tedium is hazardous to your health". She nods and then he says. "So is denial".

"Went ..." she starts as he puts his hand up to tangle in her hair, lowering his mouth to hers. "No," she tells him.

"Denial is sad," he whispers, his mouth brushing across hers and she clutches the front of his shirt convulsively, losing herself in the taste of him and revelling in the hardness of his body against hers.

When she tries to pull away, he holds her close and rests his forehead against hers. It's been two days. Two days since the best sex he's ever had, two days since the terrifying realisation that this is it, he's fallen and he can never go back to the way things were. He's actually handling the terror better than Sarah is. On set, she avoids his gaze, avoids being alone with him. No one else notices. They assume that Sarah's getting into character, that she is taking on Sara Tancredi's tension and mistrust of Michael Scofield after his betrayal.

Sarah pulls away. "We should get back," she tells him and he catches her hand in his. He says nothing but merely lowers his head and allows his mouth to slide along the smooth skin of her wrist.

"Okay," he says equably. As if reluctantly, she allows her free hand to drop down to touch his ridiculously short hair.

"Come on," she tells him, pulling her hand away and walking out of the dressing room.

In the last interview, Sarah hopes that Wentworth has decided to behave.

"And do you have any tattoos that are real?" the interviewer asks and Sarah can almost hear Wentworth's silent cursing.

"No, and no plans to get any - certainly not after this experience," he says patiently.

A wicked imp inside Sarah prompts her to hold up a hand and pretend to whisper conspiratorially,"He has a tattoo of 'I love Sarah' on his arm," she tells the interviewer.

"She's carryin' my baby," Wentworth interjects, not batting an eyelash and Sarah chokes again as Wentworth looks over at her. Realising that he has bested her, she puts her hand up on his shoulder as if to concede defeat.

After the interviews are over, Sarah gets to her feet and is out the door in a flash. Wentworth's at her heels.

They make it outside and the night air hits her skin making her shiver. "Come on, let's share a cab," he tells her. "I'll see you home," he tells her.

In the cab, they don't talk. The cab driver pretends not to notice as Wentworth keeps kissing Sarah's neck. When he tells the driver to take them back to his place. Sarah turns and sees that Wentworth is staring at her with his pale, unfathomable eyes.

"Is that all right with you?" he asks her softly.

"The interviews. It's like you want the world to know," she says accusingly. He's sitting very close to her, his fingers sliding across her skin caressingly as he stares at her face in the darkness.

"I don't see anything wrong with what we're doing," he tells her bluntly.

"You were playing with me," she tells him accusingly. He pays the driver and then they link hands as they walk to his front door. As he unlocks his door, Sarah stands behind him, her hands sliding beneath his shirt to linger on his warm skin. She presses a kiss to the back of his neck, biting sharply on the skin and Wentworth catches his breath.

"Now who's playing?" he asks her huskily. Her hands are warm and tantalising and she's pulling him closer. As soon as he unlocks the door they're inside, shrouded in darkness and they're tugging at one another's clothing impatiently.

"You know this isn't real, don't you?" she whispers huskily. "This won't last," she says and there's a bleakness in her voice, even as she presses her mouth to his hungrily and starts to pull at his clothes, wanting to forget everything except physical sensation.

Then, quite suddenly, and without any warning, Wentworth stops.

***

"You're a very strange man, Miller," she tells him softly as they lie in his large bed side by side. Sarah's wearing one of his t-shirts, and her long, slim legs are bare beneath the sheets.

The thing is, they haven't had sex - they're just lying there and Wentworth runs his hand lightly across her soft skin.

"This is real, Sarah" he tells her huskily. "I'm just being patient. You'll realise it's true," he tells her. He pauses before continuing. "Your marriage didn't work out - but that doesn't mean this isn't real".

"I came back here to fuck you, not be psychoanalysed," she tells him with an edge in her voice. They haven't had sex. For reasons known only to him, Wentworth helped her to undress and then pulled her into bed beside him. "You want to cuddle? How very new age of you," she taunts him. Her voice is sharp and cutting. She doesn't know why she's trying to hurt him. Anything to take that calm, watchful expression out his cool, light eyes.

"I won't hurt you," he promises her and suddenly there are tears in her eyes.

"You don't know that," she tells him, turning away from him.

He moves up against her back, and presses a kiss to the warm skin at the nape of her neck. "I'm not him," he promises her.

His hand slides up under his t-shirt to touch her breasts but he makes no move to roll her onto her back, he makes no move to initiate sex. His touch is merely meant to soothe and irrationally, she is soothed.

"Once you've had a failed marriage - maybe you'll understand," she says slowly and Wentworth shakes his head.

"I'm not intending to marry anyone except you - and when that happens, it will be forever," he promises her.

That makes her stiffen but his hand kneading her flesh, his mouth against her skin makes it impossible to resist him. She turns and his mouth covers hers and she tastes him. She's already addicted. She can't push him away, her hands are clutching convulsively at his shirt front.

When he's finally inside her, she's groaning hungrily, arching up against him and wanting him even deeper. "Harder," she tells him fiercely and he obliges, his fingers sinking almost painfully into her flesh as he takes her.

"I love you, Sarah," he whispers against her mouth and she knows it's true.

She doesn't say it back, but he knows the truth anyway.


End file.
